Lorik The Protector (Lorik Trilogy) (12 page)

Vera risked a glance at the other Norsik ship. The entire crew was bailing water now, some simply cupping their hands to scoop up the water, but it was a futile effort. The Norsik ship was listing heavily to one side, and it was only a matter of minutes before the barge would capsize and sink. Vera knew that if Stone could get off the enemy ship, the raiders would be forced to try and save their comrades, giving the
Dancer
the perfect opportunity to escape.

Lorik was near the
Dancer
when two volunteers came to his aid. Jons continued to pull the rope while the other two men grabbed Lorik and lifted him up over the low rail at the stern of the ship. He flopped onto the deck, hugging his axe for a moment. He saw Vera climbing down from the crow’s nest and so he climbed to his feet and looked around.

Yulver was busy calling out orders. The other men on the ship were working to row the
Dancer
to where Stone was fighting on the Norsik barge. Lorik hurried over to Yulver.

“Row hard, men!” Yulver shouted. Then he turned to Lorik. “You’re one crazy idiot,” he said. “I thought that little stunt was the last time I’d ever see your ugly mug.”

“No such luck,” Lorik said.

“Can you sink the other ship?” Vera asked as she hurried up to the two men.

“No!” Yulver said adamantly. “If you sink their ship, they’ll do whatever it takes to get on board with us, and they’ll kill anyone who gets in their way. You have to leave them an opportunity to retreat.”

“So how do we help?” Vera asked.

“If we get close enough the others can get back on the
Dancer
,” Yulver said.

“Oh!” Lorik shouted. “The grappling hooks!”

He didn’t stick around to explain. He ran to where the big metal hooks were still stuck fast in the railing. Jons hurried over to Lorik’s side.

“What can I do to help?” the wounded sailor asked.

“I need ropes, at least two of them.”

“I’m on it,” Jons said.

Lorik was tired and it took all his strength to free the grappling hooks. He had to place one foot on the ship’s railing and pull the hooks with both hands. He managed to free three hooks, and by that time Jons had gathered several lengths of rope.

“Tie the ropes onto the hooks,” Lorik explained. “We’ll use them just like the Norsik did.”

Vera tied one of the ropes to a hook, and Lorik tied another. Jons was having trouble tying his hook with only one hand, but one of the other sailors hurried to help. Then Lorik directed the crew to stand by their oars. He threw the first hook, and it missed the ship by just a few feet. Vera threw hers and it crashed over the barge’s railing near the bow. Three sailors ran to her aid as she began to pull the rope.

The Norsik had fallen back into a tight group, their swords held out to fend off anyone who came too close. Stone, bleeding from a small gash in his shoulder, continued to feint forward, but didn’t actually engage the raiders. He could hear the cries of help from the other ship and knew that it wouldn’t take much for the raiders to rush his small boarding party. They had fought well, but the volunteers and sailors were not as ferocious as the raiders. If the fighting went on much longer, Stone knew the tide would turn against him. For his own part, Stone felt boxed in by the ship. He had jumped across to the Norsik barge and taken the raiders off guard. He had fought close in, which was to his advantage. The raiders had short swords, but they were used to basic hacking and slashing; they didn’t have the finesse it took to wreak havoc in close combat.

Lorik’s second try with the hook was more successful. It landed amidship and he quickly pulled it tight. The hook held fast and Yulver began barking orders again. He stationed Vera and Lorik on opposites sides of the
Dancer
’s stern. Then he had his sailors who were still on board prepare to raise the sail. The
Dancer
was filled with feverish activity. Lorik and the men with Vera pulled the Norsik barge close, but they would have to be almost touching for Stone’s party to make the jump back across.

The sinking Norsik ship flipped suddenly in the water, then began sinking quickly. Lorik watched as the raiders began swimming toward the sister ship where Stone and his squad were still fighting. He knew if the other raiders reached the Norsik barge, they would serve as reinforcements.

“Pull harder!” he shouted. “We need to get Stone and the others back on board.”

Stone held his ground until he heard Lorik call him. He knew he couldn’t turn his back on the raiders or they would cut him down from behind. When the ships were only a few feet apart Lorik called to his friend.

“Stone, get your men back here!”

“Move!” Stone shouted at the sailors and volunteers who were still on their feet.

They had lost only two men in the fighting and had wounded or killed nearly a dozen Norsik. Stone heard the men leaping across to the
Dancer
. The barge rocked and the Norsik moved a few steps toward Stone. He feinted toward them one last time, then spun on his heel and sprinted toward the
Dancer
. He heard the mob behind him burst forward, like water spilling over a dam. He ran hard, stepping on bodies along the way. He jumped onto the rail of the barge and then dove toward the
Dancer
.

Lorik had released the ropes as soon as Stone made his move. Yulver had gotten the sail back up and it was pushing the long ship forward. The Norsik barge had acted like an anchor, weighing down the
Dancer
, but as soon as Lorik and Vera released their ropes the
Dancer
seemed to leap away from the other ship. Vera’s heart froze in her chest as she watched the distance between the two vessels increase suddenly, then saw Stone hurtling through the air. He crashed into the railing, held on for a moment, then slipped off the back of the ship, disappearing into the foaming white wake.

“Liam!” Vera screamed, using Stone’s real name.

“Stone!” Lorik shouted.

The lithe warrior sank like his namesake. Lorik grabbed the back end of Jons’s grappling line, which the sailor hadn’t gotten a chance to use. Then he dove into the water to help his friend.

Stone wasn’t a good swimmer, but he managed to get his head above the surface. Unfortunately, he was too close to the Norsik barge. The raiders were fetching oars and preparing to swing them down on Stone’s head.

“Look out!” Vera shouted.

Stone turned his head back toward the Norsik ship and saw a massive wooden oar sailing down toward him. He dove back under the water and heard the slap of wood hitting the water above him. He still had his knives in his hands. They felt heavy in the water, but he forced them back into their sheaths and started swimming. He was close to panic when Lorik grabbed his arm.

“He’s got him!” Vera shouted. “Pull the rope.”

Once again Jons hooked the rope over his shoulder and began pacing down the ship. Lorik felt the tug and pulled Stone after him. More oars were swung at them, but they were too far from the Norsik ship to be in danger anymore. The men who had fought with Stone helped pull the pair from the water. They stood at the rail, dripping and panting.

“Do you think they’ll follow us?” Vera said, clinging to Stone.

“No,” Lorik said. “I think they’ve had enough trouble for a while.”

“I hope you’re right,” Stone said. “I’m exhausted.”

“What are you complaining about? I took out a whole ship all by myself,” Lorik said.

“Hey,” Jons said from behind. “You had a little help.”

“We lost men,” Stone said seriously.

The mirth vanished. Lorik looked up and saw the Norsik dropping the bodies of the two sailors who had died fighting over the side of the ship.

“Bastards,” he said.

Then fatigue settled in. The men who had fought found places along the deck and lay down. Stone and Lorik shared a bucket of tepid water between them, while Vera worried over Stone’s wounded shoulder. The cut didn’t need stitching, so she washed it with wine and water, then bandaged it with a clean rag.

They slept until midafternoon, then Lorik got up and walked around the deck. He was angry at himself for taking the loss of life so lightly. He knew that fighting the Norsik would result in death for many people, perhaps even himself. He wasn’t afraid of dying, but he didn’t want to be the kind of person who didn’t value the sacrifices of others.

“You look like you have a lot on your mind,” Vera said from behind him.

He turned and looked at his old friend. She looked older, but just as pretty as he remembered her from their childhood. He had expected her to be angry, but she looked concerned instead.

“I’m just...” His words trailed off.

“It’s okay,” she said. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. But if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

“I’m not sure what to say,” Lorik confided. “I feel relieved that we survived, but I also feel guilty that I almost got us all killed.”

“What happened in Ange Point?”

“The Norsik had captives, mostly women and children. I couldn’t just leave them to be taken as slaves.”

“So that’s why you were being chased out of town?”

“Yes, we set fire to the big feasting hall in the center of town. I was the distraction while Stone got everyone out.”

“It was a risky plan,” she said, but there was no hint of condemnation in her voice.

Lorik looked around. The towering cliffs were far behind them and the gulf had opened up so that he could no longer see the northern shore. He sighed and finally nodded.

“I guess that’s what bothers me,” he said. “My risks don’t seem to be just mine anymore.”

“That’s what happens when you care about people,” Vera said. “The volunteers followed you north because they respect you. The sailors follow you into battle because they’ve seen your ferocity. Even Liam follows you, Lorik. People want to be around you. They feel safe and important because you make them feel that way. I have no doubt that in the right circumstances the whole kingdom would follow you to the gates of hell.”

“Not you,” he said.

She smiled. “Why do you think I stayed in Hassell Point so long, Lorik? It wasn’t because of the scenery.”

“I know you don’t love me,” Lorik said. “We’ve been down that road.”

“No, I’m not in love with you, Lorik,” Vera admitted. “But everyone who knows you loves you. I love you. Liam loves you. Even crusty old Yulver loves you. Can’t you see that?”

“I don’t know why they would care about me at all, you especially. I’m just a man. I don’t even know what I’m looking for in life.”

“And still, here you are, leading a band of volunteers north, putting yourself in harm’s way. And for what? You aren’t looking for a medal or recognition. There was no threat from the Norsik in the Marshlands and no opportunity for gain fighting in the north. So why are you here?”

“I don’t know where else I should be,” he said honestly.

“Anywhere but here,” Vera said. “Men can get complicated when it comes to duty and honor, but that isn’t your problem, is it?”

“No.”

“No, you just have a need to defend us all. From the orphan down the street,” she said with tears in her eyes, “to a town full of people you’ve never met.”

“Vera, I’m sorry. I’m looking for something to ease this dull ache inside me. I don’t know what it is. I’m not lonely, I shouldn’t be sad, but I feel so out of place. It’s like I’m missing something and I don’t know what it is.”

“It’s not a woman’s affection?”

“No,” he said. “I know I could have that if I wanted it, and I think maybe someday I will. But what I’m feeling is bigger than that. It’s bigger than me, really.”

“You could go home. We could all go back to Hassell Point. Liam and I’ll go with you.”

“No,” he said firmly. “That’s behind me now. Maybe one day I’ll go back, but for now I need to go north. I need to fight the Norsik. I need to find my purpose.”

Vera just looked at him. She felt sorry for him, but at the same time she was proud. She didn’t want him to throw his life away in the Wilderlands, but a part of her knew that Lorik was more than a teamster, more than just a volunteer in a border war. Perhaps there was something drawing him, something bigger than either one of them understood.

Days passed, and the Sandah Gulf seemed in some places like the open sea, and in other places more like a huge river. On the fourth day they stopped at a small village and resupplied. Yulver explained that it would take at least two weeks to traverse the gulf and reach Fort Utlig. The people in the village were frightened, having heard rumors of the Norsik invasion, but their village had been spared so far.

The crew went ashore and filled the small inn. The ale flowed and the small building was filled with laughter and singing, but Lorik sat in the corner and nursed his drink. Stone and Vera had taken the opportunity to be alone for the first time in weeks, but once they had made love they returned to the common room of the inn for food and ale.

Yulver, ever sour in his disposition, sat with Lorik in the corner, watching the others revel. Stone and Vera joined them. Supper was a thick stew made with clams and potatoes. The inn served fresh bread, a soft but flavorful cheese, and plenty of ale. Yulver drank sparingly, but Lorik hardly drank at all. Stone gave his friend space and tried not to flaunt his romance in front of Lorik. He knew that Vera and Lorik had a long history, and even though Stone was convinced that Lorik wasn’t in love with Vera, he didn’t want to make his friend uncomfortable.

The night wore on, and the next morning dawned bright. They set sail early, and Lorik joined the sailors at the oars. They traveled another week before stopping, and much like the voyage north from Hassell Point, Lorik seemed to grow surlier with each passing day. They had just sailed into a small harbor when they noticed that a Norsik barge was tied to the dock and hidden with an old sailcloth.

“Who the hell do they think they’re fooling with that?” Yulver asked.

“Us, I suppose,” Stone replied.

“Well, we can’t stop here,” Yulver said.

“Yes we can,” Lorik said. “If they’re hiding their ship, then they’re waiting for people to come into town. Let’s oblige them.”

“Lorik,” Vera said, “we don’t have to fight every raiding party that crosses the gulf.”

“That’s what we came here for,” Lorik said. “I’m not going to turn a blind eye to Norsik raiders in Ortis. They’re here for slaves and plunder. I say we send them home with nothing.”

His voice was grim, his demeanor almost frightening. The
Dancer
waited until a small skiff paddled out to them. Then Lorik, Stone, and the other volunteers from Hassell Point climbed in.

The man at the oars was an older man, his face covered in gray whiskers. He frowned as he saw Lorik climb into the skiff with his heavy battle axe, but he didn’t say a word. He just leaned into his oars and sent the skiff gliding toward the small quay.

On the quay they shuffled out of the boat and walked together toward the village’s main street. The settlement was even smaller than the little town they’d encountered at their last stop. There were perhaps a dozen buildings here, but most were little more than mud huts. Lorik had no idea why the Norsik would raid such an obviously poor village, but he hoped the Norsik would put up a good fight. He needed to release the tension that had been building up over the last week. It seemed strange to think that more violence was what he needed, since it was guilt over the lives that had been lost in their fight with the Norsik that was needling away at him, but all he could think about was losing himself in a struggle with the raiders. Lorik knew that they would soon be surrounded by a band of Norsik raiders. He had warned the men with him to expect an ambush. The order was to fight as soon as the raiders revealed themselves.

The street was really just a narrow dirt path. There was a blacksmith’s shop on one side, and a tannery on the other. Both businesses were silent, which seemed odd, as if the town were already dead. They had gone only two dozen paces when the Norsik warriors sprang their trap. Raiders appeared from between the buildings, cutting off Lorik’s escape in both directions. The raiders grinned triumphantly, expecting the men with Lorik to throw down their weapons and admit defeat, but Lorik noticed that the Norsik seemed like a ragged bunch, and he smiled. Then battle cries sounded behind him as the volunteers rushed to engage the Norsik.

Stone was standing beside Lorik, and they both saw the looks of anger and outrage on the raiders’ faces. There were ten men crowding into the narrow street in front of Lorik and Stone. They had their short, curved swords drawn, but they seemed reluctant to engage.

“Well? What are you craven dogs waiting for?” Lorik challenged them.

The first Norsik raider gathered his courage and lunged forward with a scream of outrage. Lorik swung his battle axe in a powerful overhead strike that split the raider’s skull. Lorik smiled as he jerked the big weapon free.

The other raiders looked uncertain, and Lorik charged forward. He brought the axe down and thrust it straight out at the nearest raider. The man tried to block the blow with his short sword, but Lorik’s momentum was too great, and the heavy axe punched into the man’s sternum. It wasn’t a mortal blow, but it knocked the man backward into one of his comrades. Another raider tried to squeeze behind Lorik, but the teamster spun around and caught the raider on the side of the head with the butt of his axe. The six remaining Norsik pulled back. There had been an equal number of raiders behind the first group, but the charging volunteers had pushed them back into the clearing by the quay. The fighting there was fierce, but the volunteers were slowly overcoming the raiders.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Lorik shouted at the Norsik who were backpedaling in front of him. “Stay and fight, you craven dogs!”

Lorik feinted to his left, then leaped to his right, swinging his axe as he came. The blade severed one raider’s arm and sent the man sprawling into his companions. The raider’s screaming was terrible, a high keening wail that echoed across the harbor. The other raiders scrambled away.

Lorik kicked the dismembered raider in the side of the head, his heavy boot knocking the man unconscious. Then he spat in disgust.

“Cowards,” he said.

“Sorry they weren’t more of a challenge for you,” Stone said. He hadn’t even drawn his weapons.

“They’re a sorry lot if ever I saw one.”

“What did you expect? One ship, holding a little hovel like this, when they could raid freely up and down the coast?”

“I expected to feel better after I killed a dozen or so.”

“Sorry they disappointed you,” Stone said.

“You’re beginning to disappoint me, too,” Lorik growled. “Whose side are you on anyway?”

Stone just shook his head and turned back toward where the volunteers were mopping up the Norsik that had attacked from behind. Several of the men were wounded, but none had been killed. The Norsik weren’t so lucky. Half had fled, mostly by jumping into the harbor. The other half were mortally wounded or dead. Stone checked on the volunteers, making sure they dealt with their wounds quickly and efficiently until they could get back to the ship where Vera could better help them.

Lorik explored the little town. It was empty. The inhabitants had either fled or been taken as slaves. Most of the food supplies had been wasted by the Norsik. There were a few animals that had been slaughtered, all of them with large portions of usable meat rotting on their carcasses. There was no ale or wine to be found in the village, but there was plenty of flour and cheese.

Once the fighting was over, the old man in the skiff returned to the harbor. He looked around without much comment until Stone sent him to the ship to help with the resupply. He carried empty water barrels back to shore and showed the volunteers the village well so that the barrels could be filled.